Unpacking is Boring
by FickleArtist
Summary: Wooden floor socks means productivity gets tossed out the window.


Let's be honest the first logical thing to do after moving into a new place with wooden floorboards is to slide around in your socks. If that isn't the first thing you wanna do then you should see a doctor cause that is the most fun you will ever have while simultaneously giving yourself a heart attack every time you start to lose your balance. All surrounding neighbors therefore had to put up with a pair of nineteen year old boys giggling like school girls, running across the apartment to gain momentum, and the loud laughter when one of them fell on his ass. College kids could be so annoying.

Only part that made it worse was how obvious it was that one of their parents were paying for the place meaning there would be no peaceful periods of silence when they were both gone to class or work. Stupid complex owner didn't care who moved in so long as they paid on time and since a full year of rent was promised in advance the teens were allowed to move in. And no amount of complaints would get them into trouble. Two very angry elderly ladies, sisters or cousins or something, had the misfortune of living directly below the boys so not only did they hear every bang and shout clearly, their apartment also shook each time one of them fell or they collided. What the old bats didn't know is the pair could hear them too, loudly complaining and occasionally one of them hitting the ceiling with a broom handle. Now had someone politely asked them to be quiet they would have complied, to an extent. However no one did so they continued to be loud and obnoxious teenagers.

Inside the noisy apartment Timmy Turner and his best friend turned boyfriend Chester were sliding around in their socks in the hallway of their new apartment blasting _Old Time Rock 'n Roll_ on repeat. Besides his socks the blonde was only wearing his boxers, well a pair of sunglasses too but those don't count as clothing while his boyfriend opted for pajama pants and his signature pink hat. Does his hat count as clothing when he wears it all the time or is it still technically an accessory? Who cares, back to the shenanigans! As said before they were laughing, having fun in their new place (which Mr. and Mrs. Turner did not know was a one bedroom instead of a two but what they don't know won't hurt them). The hallway wasn't that wide, they barely kept from colliding, but it was the only part of the place that wasn't covered in carpet or linoleum so they were making due. Wasn't like his parents would have let them do this at their house, making up for lost opportunities ya know?

They should be unpacking or at the very least move things into the appropriate room but the tempting call of wooden floor was too much to ignore. Meant finding new bruises later tonight when they finally went to bed, no big deal. Now one may wonder how two people can entertain themselves for two hours in this fashion without getting bored and the answer was simple enough, both parties are easily amused. Once one thing got boring they were onto the next unless it was a really bad idea like sliding across the floor on your knees (thankfully the blonde fell over onto his side before messing up his knees too bad). Thus far they had raced, seen who could push who the farthest, briefly tried wrestling (not a good idea), messed around a lot, done the cliché floor slide during the song's intro with something to stand in as a guitar, and now they were playing chicken. Who would stop themself, plop on the floor, or otherwise keep themself from hitting the other first. Unsurprisingly most of the first few runs were draws since they stopped nearly at the same time, even after they got over that they were still at a draw. For the sake of moving on to something more entertaining they agreed this next one would be the last.

On either end of the hall they took their positions waiting for the song to start over again to signal they could start running since the last few times one of them counted down it ended with someone getting a head start. Right as the intro began both took off to get momentum to propel them down the hall and once they started sliding it was obvious neither was going to stop. Actually forget stopping, neither even tried to move to the side or do anything else to not collide. At the last second the blonde chose to try to fall back on his rump only for that to prompt his boyfriend to try to keep him from falling. Good intentions never go unrewarded as Timmy managed to stop them from ending up on their back/stomach and barely kept their heads from banging together, but not from his lips smashing against the blonde's.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

With a dismissive wave Chester gave the brunette a look like he was expecting something.

"What? Want me to kiss it better?"

"Good idea but no, this is one of those cliché romance moments from those novels you read where the dude kisses the chick then leaves her swooning on the floor."

Laughing, the brunette pressed another, far less painful kiss to his lover's lips. "You know I don't read those ones right?"

"Shut up and let me swoon."

"Fine, fine, by all means be overdramatic."

"Thank you." And true to his nature the blonde put a hand to his forehead and fell onto his back with a noise that sounded like a chicken being strangled.

A bit concerned for his boyfriend's sanity Timmy patiently waited for him to get up. Took a minute cause he wanted to be as over the top as he could, once they were back on their feet he asked what that swoon rated on the shitty romance novel scale (7.3).

"Think we've annoyed the ladies downstairs enough?"

"Well," Chester pointed to a box with some of their bedroom essentials, "there's always that, mean they're going to learn Imma screamer at some point right?"

The resulting blush on the brunette's face was priceless. As was the response that they not do that, there was school tomorrow and it would be very unneighborly to wake any children. However tomorrow after all the little kiddies were at school, their downstairs neighbors would learn that a couple hours of being idiots was nothing to complain about.


End file.
